


All The Livelong Day

by Kemmasandi



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Gen, Ratchet/Optimus if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kemmasandi/pseuds/Kemmasandi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet helps smooth over Optimus' return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Livelong Day

**Author's Note:**

> More promptfic from tumblr.
> 
>  **Title:** All The Livelong Day  
>  **Rating:** T  
>  **Universe:** TF:Prime  
>  **Prompt:** supermedichero247 said: I don’t want to be a pain, but I need More OP/Ratchet, After Orion Pax part III

***

Optimus refused Ratchet’s offer to dial down the pain sensors in his neural net, lips thinned in that way he often did when he had something to be pigheadedly stubborn about. His EM field flickered quiet assurance at Ratchet: _I will not be swayed on this._

Ordinarily, Ratchet had no truck with self-flagellation. Optimus knew this. But these were far from ordinary times, and there was a brittle note in the smooth rumble of the Last Prime’s voice, something in the way his servo drifted unconsciously up to his shoulder to brush fingertips against the Decepticon brand engraved into his living metal. Ratchet found his protest dying before he’d even assembled it, a soft sigh cycling through his vents.

At least this would be a temporary pain, he thought, firing up the grinder. Better to pick your battles – and besides, he had plans to soothe the pain away soon enough.

Optimus bore the pain with ease he never should have had, barely a flicker of discomfort passing across his features. Chromonanite paint and dead metal came away under the grinder, his field pulsing once with a lance of pain when it ground down to the main living layer of his armour. Ratchet measured the ache through his neural net, silently offering Optimus a hand to clasp, a smile playing at his lips. A beat, and Optimus returned the smile.

Relief so intense it hurt struck Ratchet all at once. Optimus was safe, and he was back, and none of them had died to achieve it. The worst injuries had been Ratchet’s own, slashes ripped through his armour, protoform-deep, by Megatron’s blade. They ached, but he would permit no other to fulfil his own duties – and so just as Optimus dismissed his own pain, Ratchet would do the same.

Gradually the brand disappeared, worn away in clouds of pain and metal dust. Optimus’ shoulders gradually straightened, as if a weight of shame had been taken from his back. His EM field lost the tightwave tension, wavelengths loosening and brushing up against Ratchet in glad reawakening. It would have taken the strength of will of a god to stop himself from reacting, so Ratchet didn’t even bother. He pushed back, relief and delight and a desperate plea for reassurance – _don’t you dare do anything like that ever again._

Optimus smiled down at him, optics dimming, servos slackening, content. _I will do my best to ensure I do not._

***


End file.
